The adventure log is where you list the sessions and adventures your party has been on, but for now, we suggest doing a very light “story so far” post. Just give a brief overview of what the party has done up to this point. After each future session, create a new post detailing that night’s adventures.

One final tip: Don’t stress about making your Obsidian Portal campaign look perfect. Instead, just make it work for you and your group. If everyone is having fun, then you’re using Obsidian Portal exactly as it was designed, even if your adventure log isn’t always up to date or your characters don’t all have portrait pictures.

A Remembrance

Page, a good friend and a great warrior. When first we met at the Drunken Gull Tavern a true and grand friendship was born. Though you were a bit strange I accepted your admiration and kindness without hesitation. Many of my rat friends share the same fondness that I have for you and you for I. I will always cherish the memories we made like that time you took out those guards with that sick ass hammer and that other time. Which reminds me of an amusing anecdote, when Mopan hired us to break his finger foods…I mean cook out of prison, you turned to me and said “This prison is heavily fortified with the toughest guards and the strongest bars. All I have is my hammer, we need your wit, your charm, and your devastating good looks to see us through this harrowing deed.” And of course I said yes, how could I turn such a close, beloved, and desperate friend away. But things did not go so smoothly and that is no ones fault….except for that drunken hobo….REVENGE….From HELL’S HEART I will stabbeth THEE……….where was I? Oh right..Vengeance….Beware Drunken Hobo for I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy My brothers, in this case sisters. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay My vengeance upon you, but moving on.

Oh gods I beseech you and your wisdoms, you took her, as you took so many bright flowering young adventurers at Balder’s Gate, on the Sword Coast, at Khe Sanh, at Langdok, at Hill 364. These young adventurers gave their lives. And so would Page. Page, who loved bowling people over with her hammer. And so, in accordance with what I think your dying wishes might well have been I scatter these, uh they wouldn’t release her body for cremation so I, uh had to make do….I scatter these, representative, ashes to the great sea and call out to all the gods I implore you: give her… give her a break.Ashes to ashes Dust to Dust There goes a Tiefling you really could trust

And now a closing poem

Oh Page, Page!
So full of rage, rage!
Why have you gone, gone?

In the Drunken Gull
over flagons full
(Mopan’s Butler knocks out Willow and tosses him into a potato sack)

Now serving up Cheery Blossom Pie

This is bad. This is bad. This is so bad! We’ve made our way up the stairs and all the Misters Mopan, Bird and Dwalin are messing about with the window. You know, the scary window that looks out into the BLACKESTVOID! I’m hovering by the bed post and poor Mister Bird is still in shock from losing a hand I just know it and he’s got the window open and has stuck his hand in there.

Whyyyy?

Welp, we’re all going to die- this Mage’s house is full of too much dangerous magic and now we have a man sticking the stump of his arm where his hand should have started, into a window that looks into nothing. What does that do? Well it releases a dangerous black liquid that sticks you to the floor and now these curious kittens probably will lose one of their nine lives BECAUSETHEBLACKMASS IS CRAWLINGALLOVERTHEFLOORTHAT IS EMANATINGFROMTHEOPENWINDOWAND UP THEIRSTUCKBODIESAND I DO NOTKNOWWHAT TO DO!!!!! Mister Bird raises his hammer high in the air but I don’t know why because I’m not sure what use this hammer is going to do if he doesn’t swing it and really what use is it against a moving black puddle?!

I climb up the bed post that I’m clinging to, but the stuff is getting closer to the bed and me. I should just run. I should just run out the door, down the hallway, out of this house and go back home to my warm hobbit hole where Ma and Pa Blossom are cooking up my favorite 12 course meal and Juniper and Briar are setting the table and arguing about the proper way to cultivate the fields and there’s absolutely nothing I can do without engulfing myself in this goo to help us. This evil is getting closer and closer and I just want to be home in the familiar farmland of Delimbyran…
…
…aaaaand now it’s sucked us into another plane of existence where those of us with short stature cannot breathe. We’ve landed in some sort of mucky marsh. And it’s eerily quiet. ABSOLUTELY quiet. It seems like twilight. The trees scare me. The only sound we hear is the sound of our own splashing and sucking mud squishing. Mister Mopan can barely see above water yet he helps me up on his shoulders so that I might live through drowning.

There is something in the distance and it looks like an evil witch’s hut that’s come straight out of the tales they tell you as a young hobbit so you’ll eat all your vegetables and we are doomed. An evil witch is going to bake us into a pie. Cheery Blossom Pie. Gods, I know it would win a ribbon. What am I thinking? HOWWILL WE GETOUT OF HERE? I can’t help but despair and I’m embarrassed to say I haven’t cried like this in ten years and I only wish Garrett would save me again.

I cast my daylight spell on my hat hoping that it will shed some light on the situation but it doesn’t seem to help. Mister Bird is behaving strangely and shushes us. There’s so much quiet here it would fill the world to the brim and spill over. There’s too much quiet. We should have just slept through the night after I’d bandaged him from the round room fiasco. He probably needs rest. We must get out of this muck. Misters Dwalin and Mopan can hardly keep their heads above this marshness. I’m moved along with a purpose as Mister Mopan makes his way through towards this evil hut.

As we make our way up to the landing, Mister Bird is having a very difficult time removing himself from the mire. I think he’s mentally and physically ill. He’s screaming at the top of his lungs and his eyes are popping out of his head. Mister Mopan lassos him with some rope and Mister Dwalin and I help to try to pull him out. For whatever reason, this is more difficult than it should be and Mister Bird seems to be in agonizing pain. We struggle for what seems like hours and finally he’s freed. We get into the hut and find an elf tied to a chair. Mister Dwalin interrogates him. I don’t think Mister Dwalin trusts very many people, because this poor elf is obviously in dire straits and here against his will as well.

Not so restful...

My lungs burn…why am I running? I can’t breathe! How long? The light on the horizon, it’s just out of my reach.

“You must extinguish the light, the shadow must play its part…” Why am I saying this?
“You must extinguish the light, the shadow must play its part…” I need air!
“You must extinguish the light, the shadow must play its part…” I must extinguish the light!!!
“You must extinguish the light, the shadow must play its part…” Is that a person…me? On the horizon?
“You must extinguish the light, the shadow must play its part…” I’m going to die! I can’t breathe!

Just when I thought it was over…I found myself where I should be.

Air in my lungs…weapon in hand…Blood?
Crimson dripped onto the body at my feet…me again? No. It’s not me…it’s…the light;
The light I must extinguish.

For Shar.
-
I awake abruptly, gasping for breath.

“Everything alright?” Apparently Illiana is a light sleeper.

Although, sleeping in a room full of dangerous, powerful, and absurd people doesn’t make it any easier to rest.

“I…” I start, but I’m not even sure how to respond.

“You’re dreaming too?” She’d been having nightmares lately. Though, with her power, they’re more likely visions.

Curious Caravan Creatures

It all started with a hammer. Well, that’s not quite right. It all started with a caravan. A bunch of people so soft they needed not only horses to carry them, but wagons to sleep in and mules to carry what they refused to. People each relying on so many others for what they should be able to provide themselves. Things as simple as protection and navigation. People who couldn’t even feed themselves without someone nearby who’s only skill was the feeding of others. Teamsters who couldn’t cook, cooks who couldn’t drive, fighters who could do neither. As if by putting more and more useless people into a group, the people might stop being so useless. It’s madness, really.

And yet as helpless as these creatures were, they seemed to know what they were doing and why. Not as individuals, mind you. Every man jack of them was as lost as a blind bitch on a boat. But somehow, despite it’s stark-staring pointlessness, the caravan had purpose; direction. And all those miserable folk, well, they didn’t seem to notice how miserable they were. They seemed . . . well, they seemed to belong.

Silver lined storm clouds

As we are standing on the porch I notice we are not alone in this scary swamp. Several fishy looking armed figures start appearing. They look smelly. I ask Mister Bird if he’s seen them too because I don’t want to be accused of being hysterical. He really seems out of it though so I turn back to alert Mister Mopan—who is really the embodiment of a whirlwind in a stout mustachioed dwarf—and he is through the door, at the ready for a brawl. This raises the attention of Mister Dwalin. He seems a bit more interested in learning more about these would be assailants and there’s not much I can tell him about their numbers or protective gear. The dark shady light in this terrain did not reveal much to my eyes. As the two of us make our way out the door and on to the porch, chanting begins. My hands get slick. I start to make out the words. THEY’RE TALKINGABOUTDOINGUNSPEAKABLETHINGSANDFEEDING US TO SOMEONE.

I am going to be sick. But that has to wait because there’s an earthquake! I try to latch on to Mister Dwalin to steady myself but we all take a tumble into the muck. I’m thrown flat on my back and as my eyes pop back up to the front of my head, I watch as THEHUTWALKSWAY. WHAT IS HAPPENING—HOUSES ARETHROWING US OFFANDWALKINGAND WE AREGOING TO BE FISHFOOD! I try to get a good look at what’s happening but it looks like we are going to be surrounded if we do not get up and out of this stuff. The fish people are moving faster in this gunk than we are. I’m struggling to rise and I hear a snap and a plop. One of the fishmen falls to his demise. It looks like Mister Mopan has very scarily and easily snapped his neck. He looks pleased. Chauntea help me my comrades are maniacs! But what can I do? There are too many shadowy figures in the distance and most of my training was helping crops grow in Delimbryan. I can’t move anyway. I can’t move? I CAN’T MOVE.

I’mgoingtodieI’mgoingtodieI’mgoingtodie

I look over to my right and Mister Dwalin is also stone still. WHAT IS HAPPENING? Bodies are moving and I hope none of these fishmen see me as a threat. Or as food. I try to break free. It works? I shouldn’t be in this mix. I make my way around the fighting. What do I do? How can I help?

I pray to Chauntea. I pray to Silvanus. I pray to anyone who will hear my meek voice and I call upon a storm cloud to strike down lightning to my aid.

AND OH MY GODS I JUSTFRIEDTWOFISHGUYSRIGHT IN FRONT OF MISTER MOPAN—I don’t want to kill anyone! All of my teachings so far have been to help things grow! But they don’t take a fall. They just smell a little crispy and I try to make my way toward Mister Bird as our two dwarf comrades are battling it out but everything is moving fast. There’s fishmen everywhere, either dead on the ground or assaulting us. Theres something happening above. My storm cloud shouldn’t be this powerful. There’s more rumbling in the sky and the air becomes more static, my hair is rising. I’m not doing this—this isn’t right. The thunder roars in my ears. I know what’s going to happen.
Lightning strikes down and everything is illuminated and I’m blinded by the starkest white light. The sick smell of singed hair fills my nose as everything starts to fade to black and I’m falling.

I’m standing in a wheat field-a beautiful sea of gold. A sudden breeze rises and the sheaves of wheat shift in undulating waves. It’s close to harvest. I close my eyes and I can hear the sound of the sea with my feet firmly planted in this field. This wheat field is familiar; comforting. I raise my hands to touch the beards of the grain. It brushes the palms of my hands and I scratch my palms from the tickles. I hear my name being called and I open my eyes and look towards the sound. In the distance I can see Ma and Pa Blossom standing out front of the Honey Hollow.

Home.

Smoke is rising from Pa’s pipe. It’s probably his favorite mint tobacco. He’s got his arm around Ma’s waist. She raises her arm up to wave. I wave back and she calls to me again. Speeding around the hill, Briar and Juniper come running from the back. He’s obviously done something to start a chase and I laugh. Juniper is on a mission to catch him and Briar is…

The wind is knocked out of my lungs and I’m struck down to the ground like the weight of the world is pressing down. Everything feels like I am dying. All the nerves in my body are screaming. The pain is excruciating. I need air! With all my will power, I try to look up to see an assailant but the sun is in my eyes. I raise my arm to shade my face and I’m on alert. What just happened? I raise myself up from the dirt. Dirt? No, leaves. I try to catch my breath and inhale deeply. The scent is refreshing and clean and woody. I hear my name being called again. This time it’s a man’s voice. I recognize it; I haven’t heard this voice in a long while. Am I dreaming? The pain has subsided and I take a look at my surroundings. I’m in a wood now. The crunch underneath my feet tell me it’s beginning of fall. The light is shining through the boughs of the trees and dapples the forest floor. I know these trees. It’s the Ardeep.

Garrett.

I hear his voice call my name again but the sun shining through the boughs makes it difficult to see where he’s calling from. As I make my way by the oaks and the beeches, I reach out and briefly pass my hands over their familiar bark. There’s a clearing ahead. Everything in it bathes in the warmth and light of the sun. Garrett is bent over in it. He looks like he is inspecting the growth of some flowers. He looks up towards me and stands up to his full height. He’s as tall as a redwood. His beard looks like it could use a good combing because as far away from him as I am, I can see that nature has left him some parting gifts in his beard. He’s smiling and he motions toward me.

Garrett.

I start running. My vision starts to blur as tears start streaming down my face. I blink them away and the trails they leave make my face feel cold as I run. Just as I am about to reach the space where the sun illuminates my Garrett, his wrinkled old face turns to laughter as he sees me coming. I fling myself to his open ar—and I’m thrown down like the force of a thousand Dwarven hammers have struck me and my body is strewn across the forest floor and leaves are flung aside as I hit the ground. It’s the same pain as before. My body is on fire. I’m gasping for air. I can’t breathe!

My vision starts to blur and I try to focus. No. No. NOOO. The light fades; I can’t see! I’m so tired. I just want to sleep now. I succumb to the darkness and float into nothingness.

and it feels so good

I awoke surrounded by darkness. When I felt the pain in the back of my head I breathed a sigh of relief, I was still alive. Then the darkness of despair gave way to the light of freedom as my faithful friend Whiskers, the Faithful, aided in my escape from what appears to be potato sack. I couldn’t remember how I had gotten there. But with the help of Cookie and his delicious snacks I soon realized that Paige’s funeral had been attacked by a dragon, and being that dragons are no fools took out it’s greatest threat with a surprise attack. I knew I had to find my friends to see if they where safe, so Whiskers ,the faithful, and I immediately left for the village of Delimbrayn. If my friends were still alive they would know to meet me there.

After we arrived it did not take long to find Cheery’s house (the village folk were friendly, if a bit odd, but I suppose living under a death tree can do that). Whiskers, the Faithful, and I arrived heroically, dusted in the experience of the road, our feet caked in the mud of knowledge, our brows dripping with determination, our stomachs growling with anticipation of reuniting with our friends, and allowed myself to fall unconscious as a feint. When the coast was clear, I awoke myself, and found I had been placed in a large sleeping room I immediately began looking for whiskers, The Faithful, and found him in the dining room with four half-lings eating some cheese off a plate when they saw me whiskers, the Faithful, ran over happy to see me, the Half-lings introduced themselves as the Blossom family. The two older ones where Dagwood and Holly, but insisted on being called ma and pa, the younger ones where called Briar and Juniper. (who like being called Briah and Gin) They gave me food and I explained why I had arrived at their doorstep, they where visibly impressed by my many heroic deeds. Holly said Whiskers, The Faithful, and i could stay while we waited for our friends just as long as Whiskers, the, Faithful promised to stay out of the pantry. It didn’t take long before i saw them walk down the road. everyone was there, Bird (Who looked worried about something) I think I’ll call him Sparrow, yes, that sounds right. Mopan was as flamboyant and funny as ever always putting on a show to lighting my spirits in the wake of Paige’s death. Lin was as happy as ever to see me, (he hides it), though he opted to stay at the inn in town (He probably ran out of mead) and Cheery who now that I think about it hasn’t stopped talking she must be important, important people never stop talking, I interrupt to announce that dinner was ready and we would be happy have them stay with us.

After dinner Mopan, that silly guy, went off to town in just a grass kilt, hes so funny. It wasnt until morning that I realized I had been drugged by an unknown assassin, that coward killed some poor Tiefling in his bed and got blood everywhere. But I suppose its none of my business, we need to kill that tree and help the blossoms grow.

And Nothing Bad Ever Happened Again....

The ring glowed brightly with Arcane power which leaped out toward the sigil etched on the floor and the portal yawned into existence. My companions and I shared a brief exchange of glances and stepped inside. The feeling was indescribable, strange, and yet somewhat relaxing. I don’t know when it happened but at some point I fell into a deep sleep and felt my consciousness pulled from my body. I was suddenly in a desiccated swamp, all around was rot and decay and the air was thick with the scent of putrefaction and death. I looked around and saw that Silence and Willow were near me but they were different. They appeared to be composed of pure shadow and darkness, I looked down at myself and saw that I was like them. I was about to voice some concern of this strange turn of events when Silence began moving through the bog with purpose and so I waved for Willow’s attention and we followed.

Walking through the swamp proved no easy task as unlike the previous marshlands this one was coated by a thick gray viscous substance. This substance caused me grave concern but I didn’t know why, only that I did not wish to remain there long. The path we travelled led out to what appeared to have once been a pond, but instead of water it was just a large pit of the gray…Goo. As we neared this ‘clearing’ I saw Silence tense and stopped in my tracks. From out of the fogged over ‘pond’ came a soft chanting which, at first, I couldn’t make out. I wish that inability to comprehend had persisted. Unfortunately the chanting intensified, moved and thrummed and seemed to fill the gloomy air as it reached its frenzied crescendo. That is when they emerged. They appeared to be roughly the same size of the lizardfolk we’d just previously worked with, but instead a reptilian appearance they looked more fish like. With swords, javelins, and spears out on display and a menacing gleam in their eyes we readed for combat.

They moved through the muck with uncanny ease and it didn’t take long for us to see that they also had numbers on their side as well. But that didn’t deter us as Silence and Willow moved in on the nearest of them as I remained back to provide support in the form of a rain of Eldritch Blasts. Confidence seemed to turn into carelessness as these opponents proved much tougher than expected, the battle was wild and chaotic. At several points I could almost swear a storm had appeared nearby as a number of lightning strikes fell quite near to where we fought. Eventually we managed to regain the upper hand and as the last of the creatures fell I began to feel a pull and all at once I was no long in that fetid swamp and my eyes fluttered open.

I was back in the portal as well as my own body once again, I had just begun to acclimate when I felt another pull this time on my actual physical being. Some force seemed to be attempting to divert me from the portal’s true destination, as the pull intensified the Arcane writings and symbols stained into my skin started to heat and flare with incredible pain. It was as though my so called ‘masters’ did not wish to let this intruding presence alter their plans for where they willed me to be. This struggle continued for what felt like hours when suddenly the pain from my markings began to subside, as if the ones who pull my strings figured out what the presence intended and thought the result to be…..amusing. This is all I was able to perceive as my body and essence were still recovering the effects of the metaphysical tug-of-war, and as I began to black out I felt a lingering and chilling sense of childlike delight emanating from the far off vistas my ‘masters’ call home.

With a flash I was deposited out of the portal onto a dawn soaked patch of dirt road.

“That’s becoming quite tiring.” I groaned out loud, as much to myself as to the rest of creation. I dusted the tattered remains of my robes and cloak. I saw that I was not alone and that Silence was standing off to the side of the road staring at the northern horizon. Following his gaze I saw that we were standing on the crest of decent sized hill and that the road led down through a forest which opened into a wide meadow and in its middle sat a good sized town or village. However the most dominating feature of this view was that of a massive black tree that seemed to be a bit further north of the village. Silence and I stood for a moment transfixed.

“That’s probably not good.” I said dryly, Silence evenly nodded in agreement.

“We have to go there don’t we?” I asked already knowing the answer, Silence repeated the nod.

“Well, lets get going.” I sighed as we began our walk through the forest.

We moved for some time rather cautiously but after a while picked up our pace. After following the road till midday we could see that our destination was near, that wass when we passed another traveller. He was an oddly dressed little man approaching from the north, as he drew near we could hear him muttering to himself.

“Heh, tiMe tO LEAve. Yes. YES. yes time….TIME..to leaVE.”

Silence moved toward the old man, as he did I saw a shimmer slide over his face causing his horns to disappear and his skin color change to that of a pale human.

“Excuse me sir” Silence said in his usual hushed and even tone, “but could you tell me why it’s time to leave?” The man stopped and turned his head slowly to face Silence his expression shifted that of great exuberance.

“Why IS it time to GO?” He began to stutter and cackle, “I..it’s t.t.TIME to go oh because..heh..its time TO GO” He started to continue along the road as Silence just stood there watching him go. I just had open my mouth.

“Sir, could you tell me the name of that town?” He stopped again and turned his head back at a clearly uncomfortable angle with a wide manic grin stretching across his face.

“HAHAHA!”, His laugh was loud and shrill and cold, “NAME? HAHAHAHA No More Need for NAMES now.” And with that he once again continued on his way, bellowing insane laughter until just as he was a few yards away he simply vanished into shadow.

Silence and I stood there in the road for a moment dumbfounded (at least I was).

“Well he seemed all right.” I said to Silence, my words dripping with sarcasm, and with that we made our way to town.

Upon our arrival we saw a farmer working his field, as he was also close to the road we approached him.

“Hail travellers as I can tell by the looks of ya, and that the sun be settin’ as we speak, ya probably lookin’ fer a place ta stay the night.” He shouted out brightly, I could tell that Silence had something else on his mind to ask but before he could the farmer continued “Will the Inn is just up the road there a bit, maybe just another good five minutes a walkin’ or so. They got good food, good drink, and as I can attest to when the missus gets inta a bit of a mood, good soft beds.” And with that he returned to his work.

“Thank you for the information sir, but do you mind if I ask you about that tree?” asked Silence. The farmer shuttered a bit and his face went pale.

“Uh..uh..oh well would you look at that, heh, I..I..I guess its later than I figured. Ti…time to knock off then, good evenin’ gentlemen.” Silence tried to interject over the farmer’s rambling, but still he left. I could see a cold glit appear in Silence’s eyes for a moment, but before I said anything it seemed he realized there was little point following up with the farmer in..that..manner.

I let out a long breath as finally found the Inn and after Silence spoke with the Barman, and I had a bite to eat and a bit to drink, I headed for our rented room, collapsed on one of the beds and fell swiftly into the first good sleep in months. Though as I slipped into the comforting darkness I knew that any rest and ease gained from it would likely be short lived.

pt.1

I wake up screaming. It was all a dream. My head hurts and everything looks fuzzy around the edges and I feel like I have been trampled by a stampede of trolls.
Where am I?
I take a look around at us and we all look like we’ve all escaped a tar pit in this forest. We look an awful mess.FOREST? Wait a minute what?
…How…?
Is this the Ardeep?
This is the Ardeep!
Hahaha I’m home!
How did we get here? Wait, I DON’T CARE! We’re free from that terrible swamp window! My adventuring days are over! I can go home to the Honey Hollow and eat until I explode! I can’t wait to tell Ma and Pa about these maniacs I’ve met. Like Mister Bird. Who looks so angry he is going to hit this black wall. Wait. nononono NOOOO. I wish I was swifter than Mister Bird’s anger but before any words come outta my mouth, Mister Bird strikes the tree that has cursed my life since it showed its ugly black head in Garrett’s forest. His dumb staff hits the dark hard bark and the loudest gonging possible rings throughout the trees, through my body, through my soul and shatters my mind and scrambles my brains. People are shouting and I’m trying to scream across the muted muffling of it all and then Mister Dakin makes a face I’ve seen Garret make when he’s trying to comune with the plants and he’s screaming- as if his whole world has shattered into thousands of tiny shards of glass and he’s inhaled it all into his lungs and is trying to scream it all out but it won’t matter. Nothing matters now.

This damned tree. This damned tree is wrong. This can’t be the same tree. It’s grown in sickening size. I haven’t been gone that long, have I? It’s tripled, no quadrupled in size. What the hellebore has happened since I left? It’s miles around! Nettles and Nightshade! I can’t fix this. There’s no way I can fix this. Who did I think I was to try and fix this? I’m just one tiny little person and I’m trying to take on the impossible. I can’t save the forest, I can’t save the town. I tried to find help in Waterdeep and now they’re here and we have just as much knowledge of it as I had before I left. There’s nothing I can do. We’re done. I am helpless and hopeless and useless and I’m so sorry Garret. I wish I was better than this. And of course I start crying. Stupid, big baby.

Pull yourself together Blossom. Home isn’t very far and crying isn’t going to do much good, is it? Nothing like a good home cooked meal to help you get your senses back. At least I’m home and the least I can do is show my tired friends the hospitality of a Blossom family meal. After trying to convince Mister Dwalin there’s not much else we can do we head the few miles south to the Honey Hollow and at least I feel that much better.

As we are making our way home, there’s something not quite right. We must have a visitor because there’s that gnome I first saw in Waterdeep! What’s he doing sitting out front, smoking a pipe with Briar! Ma and Pa don’t seem bothered by it at all, but boy is he strange. He sees me and starts talking t me as if I’m his best friend. He might be touched in the head because he keeps talking like he’s lived here his whole life too, although I wouldn’t put it past Ma and Pa to let the poor thing think what he likes.

Mister Dwalin seems a bit put off. It’s probably the gnome making him feel unwelcome. He’s saying he wants to trek into town-that’s 4 miles back! Mister Dwalin is stubborn as a mule and totally refuses to stay. Pa’s got plenty of room here. But off he goes.
We try not to trek muck into the house, at least I’m not, bcause we are still covered head to toe in that awful filth back from the swamp. There’s a bit of a kerfuffle as Ma tries to find some new clothes that’ll fit these big and awfully strong men and Mister Mopan thinks it’s decent to just strip off his things in the hallway! WHY IS HE ALWAYSGETTINGNAKED! The only thing I can do before the only thing he’s wearing is a smile is to magic a grass skirt onto him. Now Mister Mopan is walking around our home in nothing but a grass skirt and a mustache. Dear me.